


How a Soldier Seduced a Goddess in Five Minutes

by athena4021



Category: Critical Role (Web Series), Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Character Study, F/F, Questionable Life Decisions, dnd character backstory, terrible parenting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-12 07:22:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28506654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/athena4021/pseuds/athena4021
Summary: This is just a couple stories from my character in a Wildmount Homebrew Campaign’s life for the other party members. Posting it here so I can use chapters to do timeskips. She’s a Chaotic Good Warlock that thinks she’s a Fighter because she’s a Buff Bimbo. Based on that character idea of someone who is made a warlock because their patron is very concerned they’re going to do something dangerous and hurt themselves.
Relationships: Original D&D Character/The Raven Queen(Dungeons and Dragons)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 2





	1. Left With Nothing but the Inheritance of Everything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Unfortunate Circumstances of Jules’s birth

A mischievous wind blew through the city of Whitestone the day Jules Ransom was born. The kind that danced through the leaves and snatched hats and papers right out of hands. A wind beloved by the few who understood the language of the elements and despised by the rest of the living creatures it met. Maybe this wind swept into the halls of Cloudbreak, and seeing a newborn air genasi decided to kiss her cheek and bless her with its spirit. Maybe the wind was the babe and was merely waiting to be born into its corporeal body. Either way, as soon as the young girl gave her first cry the wind dropped and the storm inside Cloudbreak began. 

The master and mistress of Cloudbreak Hall had met ten years before in a sunny meadow in the north of Taldorei. He was a young man with bold ideas for his future and she, a cloud giant from Jonvatthon exploring the world below her floating city. They fell in love at first sight, and as they both came from noble families, were married within the year. Like most whirlwind romances, the passion they began with quickly faded as they settled into married life. His work slowly whittled at his bold future as he learned that the world is not so simple as that of a young man’s visions. He fell into the strict manners of his father and began to see his young wife as nothing but a possibility for a male heir. She began to miss travelling wherever the wind blew her and resented her husband for tying her down to a cliff side manor of stone. By the time their second daughter was born, the only time the former lovers spent together was at night, laying next to each other silently trying to remember why they had become attached at all. 

As their marriage was held on by the thin threads of societal expectations, it stood to reason that the birth of a third female child would be a breaking point. When he saw his newest child was not a son, the frustration of lost love boiled over in the father. His normal steely calm and indifference melted away to show the burning anger hidden underneath. His wife matched him word for word. Years of resentment flowed from them like a galestrom until the sharp cries of their baby daughter in the midwife’s arms silenced them. Both looked at the child as if they had forgotten she was the cause of their argument. The new mother stood and took the baby from the midwife and brushed her cloudlike blue hair once before offering her to the father. He took her but never moved his eyes from his wife’s. Never breaking his gaze she spoke in her soft lilting accent. 

“You may not want her but she is your child. And now she will be your child alone. This girl has no mother and never will. You must raise her and her sisters as your heirs. You will never have a son. May the loss of your legacy break your heart the same way you have broken mine.” 

With these final words, she let the power of the air flow through her as it did in her youth. In one breath, her husband was reminded of how deeply he had loved her and in the next she was gone. The summer breeze of Ahrhea Ransom would never again blow through Cloudbreak Hall. He finally looked down at the newborn daughter in his arms. She looked more like her mother than any of his sisters. Swiftly he handed her back to the midwife. 

“Name her something proper, like Juliette or Rochelle. None of that Jonvatton nonsense like the other two. I have too much work to bother.” 

Without another word he left the nursery, leaving the baby without a mother, a father, or even a real name. 


	2. Mutt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Insight to Jules’ childhood home life and relationship with her father

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t know how to format I’m sorry this looks awful

Lady Juliette Rochelle Ransom was a thug. Instead of spending her night quietly embroidering linens by the fire in her father’s mansion, she was entrenched at the center of a bar fight on the edge of Whitestone. The fight wasn’t hard to start. A couple seemingly careless comments and the burly human man with the red beard was throwing the first punch. The man he attacked might not have known the cause, but was all too happy to retaliate. Soon chairs were flying across the room and the floor glittered with broken glass and spilled mead. Juliette clambered on top of the bar to better witness the chaos she’d created. The pandemonium was so perfect Juliette wished she could capture it in a single image. Maybe it would be the basis for her next tapestry. That would stop Mistress Burke from forcing her to master textiles. A flash of light caught her eye from across the tavern and Juliette laughed in delight as the curtains went up in flames. She was winning this bet for sure.  
  
It took the Paleguard three minutes to reach the tavern after it caught alight. Most of the patrons had moved outside and those that were still throwing punches were quickly apprehended. When asked for the cause of the fight , nearly every finger pointed to the now smoking bar where a genasi girl sat, kicking her feet to the beat of breaking bottles and grinning. The captain of the patrolling unit made a show of putting Juliette in cuffs alongside the men she’d tricked, but knew her well enough that instead of putting her in the cart with the rest, he put her on the back of his gray horse. With a wink to the barkeep, Juliette was off to confront the Pale Lord.  
Twenty years ago, the newly made Pale Lord of Whitestone had abandoned his ancestral home and built a new mansion nestled in the cliffside overlooking the city. Rumors sparked amongst Whitestone nobles and gossip as to why. Some said it was for his mysterious new wife, who missed her cloudy home. Others said it was to better hide shady dealings from the other members of the Chamber of Whitestone. Juliette was pretty sure that he just wanted to start every day by looking down on the entire city at once. As the captain pulled the bell, she looked up at the overly large, ornately carved door to the mansion. It had been brought to Whitestone from Jovatthon and was so large it needed a complex pulley system for humans to open. This meant it took for-fucking-ever to enter or leave the mansion. The captain shivered as the wind whipped around them, as if the carved faces in the door were actually blowing gales.  
  
“Ya know you could just go. I can handle it from here,” Juliette told him.  
  
“It is my duty to ensure you are put in the care of the Pale Lord,” he replied, without quite making eye contact.  
  
“Alright, suit yourself.”  
  
The door finally opened to reveal Elmen, the house’s butler. When he saw Juliette he visibly took a moment to breathe before escorting her and the captain to the west wing of the mansion. They reached the door to the Pale Lord’s office and Elmen knocked exactly twice before turning back down the hallway. Juliette plopped down on the chaise across from the door. The captain stayed standing in the middle of the hall.  
  
“That man doesn’t say much, does he. I’ve been here three times, and I’m not sure I’ve ever heard him speak,” the captain mused.  
  
“He’s mute. All of the servants are. The Pale Lord says he needs a quiet household so he can work.” Juliette did her best to make air quotes with her still bound hands.  
  
The captain looked as if he might respond, but the door opened and he was summoned inside by another silent servant. Juliette sighed and turned to lay down, making sure to rub her muddy boots on the chaise fabric. She was well familiar with how the Pale Lord liked to keep people waiting, to create a sense of unease as well as to inflate his own importance. Above her head, the ceiling was painted with intricate murals. The first floor of the west wing displayed heroic deeds and victorious battles, in honor of the Pale Lord’s position. Jules much preferred the lush gardenscapes of the east wing or the angelic figures of the entry hall. The paintings were the only personal touches in the majority of the mansion. The rest of the decor was all lofted ceilings and grand doorways, perfectly capturing the idea of stony silence and power. Juliette was about to close her eyes when she heard the telltale sound of the door opening. She forced herself to stay still until the captain’s shadow fell over her. She flashed him a grin and held out her hands for him to unlock.  
  
“Those things really start to chafe after a bit,” she said, rubbing her wrists, “At least you didn’t make them that tight. There’s a captain near the Common Ward, I think her name is Maroon or maybe it’s Macaroon? Anyways she always does the cuffs extra tight. I usually have red marks for the rest of the week when she gets me.”  
  
The captain opened and closed his mouth a couple times before deciding to turn to leave. Normally, Juliette would call after him, but the shuffling of steps told her she didn’t have time. The Pale Lord doesn’t wait on anyone. She turned to face the servant standing in the doorway. She didn’t know the names of most of the east wing workers, but this man was familiar to her. He had the appearance of being constantly exhausted or maybe very sad. His posture was ramrod straight, but his features all seemed to droop, giving the illusion that his skin was trying to melt off his bones. Because of this, Juliette had long ago began referring to him as Mr Snowman. Part of her wanted to ask him how bad this would be, but she knew there was no point. Mr Snowman was no friend of hers, and if the Pale Lord caught a hint of nerves, his punishment would be infinitely worse. Juliette braced herself and focused on the prize of winning the bet before entering the room.  
  
The Pale Lord’s office was always dark. There was a large window that overlooked the city of Whitestone but except for the early morning, it was always drawn closed. Most of the room was made up of shelves filled with paperwork and case files. Everything was perfectly orderly and aligned. Jules forced herself to hold her chin up and stared determinedly to the upper left as she crossed the room. She stopped exactly two steps from the thick oak desk. So many people had stood in this spot, she was surprised the stone floor didn’t bear a divot. The man seated at the desk cleared his throat, but Juliette continued to look to the left for one, two, three beats. A small victory before she made eye contact with Sir Erik Ransom.  
  
Juliette had stood in front of her father this way hundreds of times and everytime she expected his expression to change. She expected anger or maybe even sadness. Hell, at this point she’d even take visible disappointment or pain. Every time she locked eyes with him, she expected it to be the last time that he’d finally be fed up with her shit. Part of her feared this change and part of her wished for it. At least then she’d have proof that her actions had an effect on him. For better or worse, she only saw steely calm, verging on disinterest in his dark eyes. This time would be no different than the others.  
  
“Captain Zhao reported that you were involved in a fistfight in a tavern. The patrons claim that you instigated the fighting by spreading lies about comments one man had made about another man’s mother. Vulgar language was used. There was also large destruction of property, including fire which you encouraged. How do you respond to these claims,” the Pale Lord queried in his slow, methodical tone.  
  
“The claims made are true, sir,” Juliette responded in the voice she only ever used when addressing her father. The constants felt sharp and uncomfortable in her mouth.  
  
“Normally the sentencing for this kind of action would be imprisonment. However as you are my child and this is not your first offence the captain felt it best that I handle your punishment directly.”  
  
“Yes, sir.”  
  
“In the past you have had privileges removed, extra time with tutors assigned, and isolation from your peers. None of these seem to have down anything to deter your behavior. I would consider sending you away to be married or perhaps to a convent, but you are such a blight on this family’s reputation that I can’t imagine anyone would take you.”  
  
“That is very unfortunate, sir”  
  
“The only thing a woman can lay claim to in this world is her reputation. You have managed to destroy any credibility your birth has given you. I have no doubt that a common pig herder or brothel mistress has more honor and dignity than you do at this point.”  
  
“Yes sir. I am a little piggy. Oink oink,” Jules held her breath to see if the Pale Lord would flinch at her comment, but he carried on, his voice rising slightly.  
  
“I have a number of illegitimate children, yet I would much rather lay claim to any of them than to you. You are my greatest disappointment. Your mother was right in wishing that you had never been born. If I could have lost you instead of her, I would make that trade in an instant.”  
That one stung a bit, but Juliette was committed at this point.  
  
“You are absolutely right, sir. I am the lowest of the low. If there were such a thing as gods, they would smite me right in this spot for the sins I have committed against the noble Ransom name,” Juliette broke eye contact at this to look up at the ceiling. When no bolt of power came from the heavens to turn her to dust, she grinned at her father. “Or not.”  
  
Though he showed no outward sign of it, Juliette had played this game long enough to know her father’s rage was bubbling to the surface. She was so close to winning.  
  
“I would suspect that this court jester persona you put on is some sort act, but I know you are far too stupid to be anything other than your true self. All you understand is the most basic emotions, like some sort of animal. I could replace you with a dog in men’s clothes and no one would be able to tell the difference. You are a beast that only knows how to destroy beautiful things. A thug raging against law and order because you are too dumb to understand your place in it. You seek to undermine everything I have ever worked for simply because you can’t understand a word bigger than yourself. I am ashamed to have had part in your creation, mutt.” With each statement, the Pale Lord’s voice rose. All that was left was to lay the final piece. The last note that created a beautiful chord, the orchestra swelled in her mind as Juliette let her gaze grow fuzzy and distant. The music paused as she spoke.  
  
“Oh I’ve always wanted a puppy! Can we get a dog, sir?”  
  
Cymbals clashed. Drums boomed. The music resumed in a flurry. The Pale Lord bellowed, “Get out!” amongst a beautiful cacophony. Juliette danced to the music she made in her mind as she ran through the mansion, past silent servants, and stony walls. The angels above heralded her with trumpets and harps. She was louder than any silence could muffle. She was music personified. She was glorious and triumphant. She kicked open the door to her sister’s room and stood in the doorway, arms outstretched as the music slowly faded away.


	3. Thinking Big

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jules’ relationship with her older sisters. Immediately follows “Mutt”.

Still coming down off the high from her victory, Juliette panted heavily as she lowered her arms and looked at her sisters. The older two had already gathered in Nathalie’s room. Their attempts to win the bet were quickly made clear as Kaelin sported a new metal ring through her septum and an elven boy was carefully not quite hidden behind a curtain. The Pale Lord’s voice still rang in her ears as the other genasi girls turned to look at her. Nathalie sighed in disappointment and Kaelin threw herself on the bed. 

“I don’t know what it is but he hates you so much more than us. It’s not fair, you’ve got a distinct advantage” Kaelin bemoaned to the faun laughing down at her from the ceiling. 

It was true that Juliette was the best at this little game they played, seeing which of his legitimate children could spark the Pale Lord’s ire the fastest. Then again, she was very good at sparking ire in everyone around her, even when she didn’t mean to. 

“You’re just a sore loser K,” Nathalie laughed, retrieving her elf boy from his hiding place, “I can’t believe you thought that piercing would upset him. It’s not like you have metal studs all over. I really thought I had you this time JJ, especially after that whole lecture on the virtues of a lady, but he just glanced at Leonid’s feet and reminded me of my double lessons tomorrow.”

“Probably because everyone in Taldori is aware that you lost your ladylike virtue a long time ago.” Kaelin’s quip was slightly muffled from the blankets her face was buried in. 

“Both of you just need to think bigger,” Jules replied, walking further into the room and sitting by her eldest sister’s feet, “By the time the Pale Guard showed up, everyone was bloodied and half the Wild Mount was burned down. He can’t ignore it if it’s a criminal offense.” 

“If you don’t think I’m thinking big then you haven’t seen Leonid’s c-“

“And we don’t want to,” Kaelin interrupted, “in case you’ve forgotten, JJ is barely fifteen. And I know what you were doing at fifteen but as we’ve already covered, you’re a slut.” 

Nathalie closed her mouth, her retort silenced. Jules played with the skirt of her deeply red dress. She could feel a few spots of blood drying stiffly on the soft cotton, but thanks to the color, they weren’t visible. While she had no interest in seeing the anatomy her sister referenced, she still wasn’t quite sure how to tell her sisters she didn’t want to see any part of a man, much less Leonid. 

The boy himself looked understandably embarrassed and confused at the conversation taking place around him. He moved as if to reach out to Nathalie and then seemed to think better of it. The movement caught her attention though and she looked at him as if surprised to see him still there. 

“Change of plans Leo. I have to console my dear sick sister.” After a pointed glance in the direction of the bed, Kaelin gave a half hearted cough. 

“Oh uh okay. I guess I’ll just… go then.

He started to the door of the room but was stopped a quick sound from Nathalie. He turned to her eagerly, only for his face to fall in horror as she jerked her head to the window. 

“Really?” 

“Yes really. Didn’t you hear the Pale Lord’s temper tantrum down there? It’s only two stories. Go on. I’ll Message you tomorrow.”

Leonid walked to the windowsill with the air of an innocent man marching to the gallows. He open the panes and climbed onto the sill before casting one more plantative look at his lover. Seeing nothing but mild amusement and annoyance in her brilliantly blue eyes, he took a deep breath and jumped. The sisters waited a moment before the shrill shriek reached them. 

“You could have warned him about the rose bushes,” Juliette gasped between bursts of laughter. 

“Where’s the fun in that?” Nathalie responded, wiping a tear from her eyes and walking over to her vanity. 

Kaelin rolled over to look at her. “Will you actually call him tomorrow? I’ve never known you to keep around your playthings after you’ve used them.”

“I might.” Nathalie spun around quickly, “I was not joking when I said I was thinking big


End file.
